


Two Moons of Boeshane

by alba17



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M, genre: angst - Freeform, genre: romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-20
Updated: 2010-04-20
Packaged: 2017-10-09 01:48:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/81667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alba17/pseuds/alba17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack is haunted by memories of the solstice on Boeshane.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Moons of Boeshane

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place between S2 and S3, after TW Exit Wounds and DW Stolen Earth/Journey's End and before Children of Earth.  
> Beta: kel_reiley. Thanks so much for your help. Also many thanks to dvanulya for very useful feedback on an earlier version of this.  
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
> A/N: Written for temporal_witch's prompt at mistletw:  
> 1) Characters: Jack/Ianto, other team members optional  
> 1) Genre: Fluff, smut, angst, romance, h/c - mix or match at least two  
> 2) Festive Theme: Winter Solstice, moonlight, memories, loneliness

They were dallying over coffee in Jack's office. Ianto was entertaining Jack with tales of unusual items he'd come across in the archives, and Jack was looking bemused, feet up on his desk, leaning back in his chair. Ianto was asking Jack where he thought they should store the Cyclodean artifacts they'd picked up the week before when he realized Jack was paying no attention whatsoever. He was just staring into space, abnormally still.

"Er, Jack... what's up?" Ianto asked.

"What?" Jack looked at him vacantly. "Oh." He seemed to be somewhere else, completely unaware that he was in the middle of a conversation with Ianto. "Oh, I... nothing. What were you saying?"

"Well, we were talking about those Cyclodean artifacts. Where do you think they should be stored?"

Jack's attention seemed to be wavering again. "Is that calendar right?" he said, gesturing to his wall calendar.

"What do you mean, is it right?" Ianto glanced at the picture of wide-eyed beagle puppies surrounded by poinsettias that graced the calendar for the month of December. He'd been quite amused when he'd given that calendar to Jack last year. He'd meant it as a joke, but disappointingly, Jack actually seemed to like it. Ianto really shouldn't be surprised that Jack had a taste for kitsch.

"Is it really December twenty-first?" Jack asked.

"Unless the Earth has once again been towed around the universe willy-nilly, yes, as far as I can determine, it really is December twenty-first."

"Oh." Jack stared past Ianto again, eyes unfocused. This conversation seemed to be a lost cause, Ianto thought.

"Okay, well, maybe I'd better see if Gwen needs any help running those diagnostic programs." These lapses in attention happened occasionally since the Gray debacle. Jack would suddenly zone out and it was better just to let things be. He'd be fully present again soon enough. Ianto took one last look at him before exiting the room. Jack was absentmindedly playing with a smooth rock he kept on his desk, his fingers caressing its surface, his face a mask. He didn't say anything in response to Ianto's suggestion.

_Yeah, better check in later._

Fifteen minutes later, Jack came down the steps from his office, with his coat on and manner subdued.

"Whatcha got?" he said in a low voice to Gwen and Ianto, who were huddled around Gwen's desk, looking intently at her monitor.

"Jack, I just don't know. Not sure this program is even working right. We think Tosh wrote up some instructions, but we haven't been able to find them," Gwen said.

"Okay, well, since Ianto was on duty last night, I'm going to let him go home for some rest tonight. Gwen, you can keep plugging away on that for awhile. I'm going out. I should be back later though."

And with that, Jack made his way through the cog door, his stride lacking its usual assertive rhythm, even his coat tails unnaturally still.

Ianto looked after him, thinking something was definitely up.

~~~~~~~

Jack gazed over the dark and oily waters of Cardiff Bay in mid-winter. The air was chilly and humid, the kind of cold that seeps into your bones and won't let go, no matter how thick your woollen coat, or how many cups of coffee you drink. Despite the long years he'd spent on this planet, in this city, he'd never quite get used to that wet, biting chill. He pulled his collar closer and sipped at the styrofoam cup of coffee that had spent too long on the burner. It tasted awful.

He'd grabbed it from a nearby café after slipping out of the Hub. He sighed and took another sip of the bitter coffee. It matched his mood.

Today was the winter solstice. When he'd realized the date, the usual gloom descended on him. It happened every year, and it invariably took him by surprise. He was always so busy dealing with whatever the rift threw at them, he didn't really keep track of the date. That's what Ianto was for.

This year, it was bad. They were only just getting over the catastrophe that Gray had wrought on Cardiff. It had taken months for Torchwood and the city to repair the damage. The visible damage, anyway. He and Gwen and Ianto were scrambling constantly, barely keeping their heads above water. They didn't have the luxury of mourning. But every once in awhile, in a quiet moment, the memories would return with a sudden pang, like ripping the scab off a wound. Then he would notice how Tosh's work station remained empty; how they would all scuttle out of the autopsy bay as quickly as possible once they'd finished their tasks. And he'd think of the quiet blink of lights on the morgue monitor that indicated Drawer 3B was in full operating order.

_Gray's face, laughing as they drank shabsa, the drink of the Two Moons, from the two-handled solstice tankards; the dance of the bonfire reflected in his pale blue eyes. His parents next to them, arms around each other, and all their friends gathered around the fire, gazing up into that amazing sky, the orbs of orange and blue glimmering high above. The crackle and flair of the energy that was unique to the Light of the Two Moons simmered in their bellies and danced up their spines, tumbling out of their mouths in peals of ecstatic laughter._

Jack finished the coffee and threw the cup into a bin. The cold wind blew old newspapers against the legs of a bench facing the water. A man walking a small black dog passed by, pulling his hat down over his face, avoiding Jack's eyes.

He heard familiar footsteps behind him and wasn't surprised to feel Ianto's hand on his shoulder, catching his attention. Their eyes met and Jack could tell that Ianto was concerned.

"You're supposed to be going home," Jack said, a small smile playing on his lips.

"I am. Unless you'd like to get a drink somewhere?" Ianto looked at him, half hopeful, half afraid to push too far. Jack knew that Ianto would like to know what was going on with him, but was too considerate of Jack's space to ask.

"Sure, why not?" Maybe some company would be a good thing. He slid his hand over Ianto's shoulders, the black wool of the coat solid under his touch. Ianto looked at him thoughtfully for a moment before slipping his arm around Jack's waist for a quick half-hug.

As they walked, Jack wasn't really aware of where they were going. He was blind to the knots of people chatting on corners and spilling out of clubs; the grey pavement passed unseen under his feet. Normally Jack was extremely aware of his surroundings. For so long he'd kept his eyes and ears keen for the wheezing sound of the TARDIS, for the white flash of Rose's smile, for a man with close-cropped hair and piercing eyes. And before that, as a Time Agent, he'd been vigilantly aware of local customs, constantly adjusting to different times and cultures. But the pull of the winter solstice was magnetic, the memories of two moons, one orange and one blue, glimmering persistently in his mind's eye.   
_  
They ran over the slippery dunes, laughing, feet sliding everywhere despite the many hours they'd spent playing in the sands. Jack tipped his head to look at the glowing moons, their colours mixing and melding like pixie dust in the magical solstice night. He reached the top of a dune and his feet were suddenly airborne as he leapt down the other side. He tumbled down, landing on his side, still laughing, he couldn't stop, and Tomas landed on top of him, quivering with the same uncontrollable laughter. They grabbed onto each other's shoulders and rolled down the dune, the sand getting in their clothes and hair and everything shimmering in the solstice light._

They came to a stop and Tomas pressed him down into the sand, kissing him messily, tongue missing his mouth half the time and making his cheeks wet. But it didn't matter because Jack was in love with him, head over heels, he'd be happy to feel that tongue slide wetly over every inch of his body. He'd never felt anything like this before, this pulsing need to get as close to someone as possible, to feel every inch of their bare skin against his. Tomas, with his long slide of glossy black hair down to his waist, that slithered over Jack's face like a gleaming curtain of night-dark silk; his slight chest just beginning to develop the muscular architecture of adulthood, Jack's already large hands roaming over its smooth planes.

Right there, straight ahead of him, long black hair swaying, Jack thought, in a daze... But, no, the body was too small, the lilting gait of the hips was all wrong, it had to be a girl, and anyway...Jack closed his eyes for a second. This was Cardiff, twenty-first century. There were no sand dunes here and the single moon, neither orange nor blue, was covered by thick clouds.

He glanced at Ianto, who was silent, lost in his own thoughts, and grabbed his hand, squeezing. Ianto looked at him, slightly surprised, as if he too had to be brought back to earth from some faraway place. Jack gave him a wistful little smile and Ianto squeezed back.

They stopped for a drink at a pub they went to occasionally, one that was quiet and warm, with a fireplace and cosy booths that were relatively private. Neither of them said much, just sipping their drinks slowly and trying to relax. Jack cracked a half-hearted joke about the barmaid and Ianto dutifully smiled, but his eyes were wary and observant.  
Their conversation, desultory as it was, lapsed entirely. Under the table, Jack's long legs stretched out and trapped Ianto's between them, settling against them with a comforting weight.

"I noticed today's the winter solstice," Ianto remarked, leaning back and extending his legs, the fabric of his trousers sliding and catching on Jack's as his knees nudged the inside of Jack's thighs. "After you left the Hub, I checked, since you'd asked about the date."

"Yeah." Jack looked down at his glass of water, then back up at Ianto, jaw tight.

"I did a paper once at uni about pagan holidays. The winter solstice symbolizes rebirth, the death and return of the sun. At least, that's here on Earth." He looked up at Jack from under his lashes, then out at the room.

Jack picked up a serviette and started tearing it into little pieces. He took a drink of his water, avoiding Ianto's eyes.

"The solstice had a different meaning where I grew up." As he spoke, Jack continued to be absorbed in his serviette-tearing, a small pile of wispy white scraps growing on the table. "We had two moons, Akimi and Nela. One was orange, the colour of tiger lilies edged with lime green. When we were kids we called it the Giant Pumpkin. The other was blue. It was a blue I've never seen anywhere else, not in all the places I've travelled...

_...a pearlescent blue with a hint of gold etched through it, like an egg filled with light, cracking._

The stories were passed down from parent to child. The moons were said to be two lovers, flung up into the sky by the Goddess in a jealous rage after finding her consort Akimi in bed with his true love Nela. She transformed them into moons and left them in exile there to watch over the planet of sand and sea and the people from far, far away who found a home there.

Only once a year were the two moons both full - at the winter solstice. The story was told that the solstice was when the lovers were reunited, their souls entwined in ecstasy. For that one night, the sands of Boeshane would be bathed in a sparkling iridescent glow that shimmered and sang as it lit up the night-time dunes. It was a special time that everyone looked forward to with great anticipation. Couples hoped to conceive, as any child created on the solstice would be lucky in life. The solstice light made people laugh like loons and fall in love. It made them stay up all night singing silly songs around bonfires and madly run through the sands with the sheer joy of being alive.

"Some of my best childhood memories are of the winter solstice. It was the most exciting day of the year. I've never really seen anything like it since." Jack played with the pile of white scraps, lost in thought. "That was the first time I fell in love."

As he finished speaking, Jack finally looked up at Ianto, whose gaze held his for only a moment before jerking away, then back again. Jack wasn't sure, but he thought maybe Ianto's eyes looked a little wet.

Jack had lost many things in his long life. He'd lost count of the lovers and friends whom he'd never see again. But the Light of the Two Moons held a special place in his heart, one that he normally guarded carefully. He felt flayed open and vulnerable, revealing this part of himself to Ianto. Ianto, who never asked for anything from Jack, but who willingly gave everything. He thought about saying some more, maybe about Gray or Tomas, but no, that was it, no more words would come.

Jack took another gulp of his water as Ianto's hand covered his on the table, mashing the pile of serviette bits underneath.

"Let's go back to my flat," Ianto said softly.

~~~~~~~~ 

Their lovemaking was slow and gentle, as befitted their mood, the memories still flitting in and out of Jack's mind, the solstice light of Boeshane vivid in his thoughts. Flashes of Tomas' sleek dark limbs came to him as he slid his hands down Ianto's solid chest and grasped his hips, pulling him close and intimate. He closed his eyes and smelled the crisp desert night air in his mind, could almost feel the grains of sand shifting in their familiar way under his weight. Then he opened them and looked into Ianto's light blue eyes just inches away, noticed how his hair was beginning to curl just a bit in that adorable way it had. He smoothed the hair back from Ianto's forehead before kissing him thoroughly, plunging his tongue deep into his mouth and pressing their lips together with a frantic urgency.

Later Jack sat by the bedroom window while Ianto slept. There were just a few clouds scudding across the chill night sky now, and the moon shone clearly. Bright white moonlight spread like lapping waves over the bed and Ianto's sleeping face, his features lost in deep chiaroscuro. Jack could make out the moon if he craned his neck – it was just visible over the rooftops. The light was cold and crisp. It didn't sing of lovers reunited or whisper of anticipated ecstasy. There were no bonfires and no rousing drinking songs. That was all in a future Jack had already lived and would never live again.

He reached over and gently drew his hand through Ianto's hair, a few locks still damp from lovemaking. Here, in this time, this was what mattered. Life at Torchwood could be fleeting, its end unpredictable and sudden. Memories, no matter how vivid, could be taken without notice. Best make the most of things now, while he still had them. He would have no memories unless he lived them first.

He settled down next to Ianto in the bed, pulling the comforter over them and curling around Ianto's body, sliding a leg over his. That night, he slept soundly for the first time in months, dreaming of the Light of the Two Moons, blue and orange shimmering over the shifting sands of his homeland.


End file.
